


The Novitiate

by needleyecandy



Series: Fucking February [19]
Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Apostasy, Face-Fucking, Heresy, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 22:42:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3398918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/needleyecandy/pseuds/needleyecandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is far too high-born to be executed for his crimes. Instead he is forced into a monastery.</p><p>The night before he is to take his orders, he receives a visitor who changes everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Novitiate

**Author's Note:**

> Today's song-   
> [Enigma - Mea Culpa](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=98Y2Vh5Qk1Q)
> 
> After Loki got to be an incubus and a vampire, I thought Thor deserved a crack at that sort of fun. 
> 
> Enjoy!

"What say you, in defense of your acts?" the king's emissary had demanded. 

Loki had raised an eyebrow and yawned in his face. 

In retrospect, perhaps that hadn't been the _best_ course of action. But the truth was, he had no defense. He had been bored. Terribly, terribly bored, and he had simply wanted some fun. And it had been fun, until even that paled. Now perhaps his punishment, at least, would provide some diversion. 

He was disabused of that notion the day the letter from the king arrived. He had waited in his favorite castle, living life almost normally but for the guards circling the walls. The king - his own _cousin_ , and, Loki knew well, not one to pass up the chance for some fun himself - had 'recommended' that he take holy orders. 

He, the greatest libertine of the age, was to be made a celibate. It was a crime far greater than any he had committed. He could have wept, except that tears reddened his eyes unbecomingly. 

His carriage left for the monastery a week later. His rank meant he would have a private cell, and that he would be allowed his own luxurious linens beneath the rough habit that awaited him. But there would be no soothing creams for his dry winter skin, no beautiful colors to flatter him, no emeralds or signets to display his wealth and rank. 

His new neighbors ("brothers," he had been told to call them, and wasn't _that_ a sickening thought) were a mixed lot. Some had chosen this life out of piety; they either avoided Loki like the plague or, worse by far, attempted to make him see the 'errors of his ways.' As though that weren't the reason he had made them his ways, in the first place. Many of the monks, though, were second sons, spares to heirs who hadn't, after all, died. These tended to be more amiable, some even seeking him out in the few minutes of freedom that were allowed them, asking him to tell to tales of his exploits. 

He was told that he could keep his hair during his novitiate studies. He hadn't meant to do so well in them, but there was nothing else to occupy his mind. All too soon, he was told that the next day he would take his vows. Nothing would change, not really, but he hated the thought of his long, glorious locks falling to the floor. They would be cut short, a tonsure shaved onto the crown. 

He was still awake when the bell rang, summoning them all to Vigils. The night was half over. He was halfway between receiving the word and carrying it out. His eyes darted around swiftly as the tired monks shuffled to their chapel, desperately seeking escape. There was none. 

Loki paused as he was raising one foot to step across the threshold onto sanctified ground. He got a rush of a sudden, familiar feeling, one that he had not felt here before. Someone was watching him. With lust. 

The routine of prayers carried on without his thought. As they returned to their cells, he again felt it, prickling the back of his neck like wool. He dawdled his few remaining steps, letting the others hurry past him towards the warmth of their beds. 

As he stepped through his doorway, he felt breath against his skin. He turned and slammed into a wall of warm, living stone. In the dim light he could barely make out long golden hair and the deep shadows cast by perfect cheekbones. He stepped backwards, holding out his arm in invitation. 

With the door shut behind them, Loki lit his candle. It was only one, and it was the poorest wax, but it was enough to see what before he had only guessed. A massive man, his body pure muscle and his face pure heaven. Loki lifted the cheap taper, trying to see better. He could tell that the eyes fixed on him were pale, but that was all. 

The man gave a small wave of his hand and more lights sprang up, filling the room with a warm glow and casting deep shadows in angles that made Loki dizzy to think on. _Blue. He has blue eyes,_ Loki thought as he swayed slightly. 

"You're no man," he said. His voice shook, but he stood his ground. 

The not-man smiled. It thinned his full red lips slightly but accentuated their rich curve and despite the terror running through his veins (or possibly worsening it - he knew well what befell those who did not show proper respect) he found himself wanting to run his tongue all over them, to lick inside them and feel that body pressed against his own. 

"No, I'm not," he agreed. His voice hung in the air like the lingering of a low gong. Loki had tried chocolate, once, before the trade difficulties with Spain, and the memory flooded back and made his mouth water. 

There was a muffled rushing sound, as though of feathers. When Loki looked up, the man's shadow bore the shadows of wings, huge and half-spread and beating gently. 

"Are you here to send me to hell?" he whispered. 

The angel's smile widened. "Why don't we say I'm here for your baptism?" he said. 

"I've already been baptized. It didn’t seem to do much good." 

"This time it will be special. Kneel." 

Loki hesitated. 

"Oh, come. I saw you in the chapel, up and down, up and down, kneeling at every prayer. I think you can kneel to me." 

Loki lowered himself carefully to his knees. His floor was pavestone, hard under bones more accustomed to silk and velvet. 

"What is your name?" he asked softly, looking up. 

The angel shrugged. "I have many." 

"Tell me one?" 

Blue eyes fell on Loki's thin coverlet. It was old but warm, one of the few things Loki had been allowed to bring with him. The pattern woven into it was of two snakes, their thick bodies wrestling, strange clawed hands reaching out to grasp at the square that surrounded them like a frame. 

"Thor," he said. 

Loki had heard the pagan tales before, filled with a god of thunder and fertility who fought with a mighty hammer and a mighty rage. "You're Thor," Loki said, torn slightly now between fear and disbelief. 

The crash of thunder that shook the monastery to its foundation made him believe. 

Thor chuckled softly and stepped closer. Thick fingers traced across Loki's forehead, down his nose, along his jaw. He shifted, and the garments they had been wearing (and what _were_ they? Loki knew he had worn something, but he couldn't quite remember what they were, now) were gone. 

Loki's eyes widened at the sight of what was before him. "I didn't think angels had those," he said. 

"Eternity is a long time. We have to stay entertained," Thor answered. 

Loki had always heard that angels were kept busy with things like praise and smiting. He knew it wasn't his place to question, but he was beginning to have some suspicions about this whole arrangement. He liked them. 

They were confirmed when Thor wrapped his hand around the back of Loki's head and pulled it roughly forward, shoving it around until he'd rubbed every inch of Loki's face against his cock. It was hot and silken and it felt luscious against Loki's delicate eyelids and sensitive lips. It was soft when he started. When he finished, it was not. 

Loki's tongue slipped free and he stared upwards, brazenly meeting Thor's eyes as he began to lick long, messy stripes everywhere he could reach. Thor loosened his grip to allow Loki more motion, and he lavished his attention on Thor's cock and hips before twisting around to reach the sides of his ass and crouching to where he could just lave the front of Thor's balls. 

By the time he returned to Thor's cock, it was leaking, a thick river of precome spilling down the side. Loki followed it up to the slit. Thor hissed when Loki's tongue ran across the sensitive head and tightened his hold on Loki's hair. His free hand reached for Loki's jaw, pulling it open. 

Loki grinned - as best he could, with his lips stretched like this - and met Thor's gaze with a challenge in his eyes. Thor took it. 

He thrust his cock in without ceremony, not relaxing his hold on Loki's chin until the thick head was pressing into Loki's throat. When he did, Loki tightened his lips around it and began to suck rapturously. It had been months since he had done this, and it was flooding back to him how much he had missed it. The thick heat throbbing between his lips, the smear of bitter salt at the back of his tongue, the delicious swirl of power he found nowhere but here. The submission of being on his knees, used for another's pleasure, yet knowing that as long as he was the one with someone's cock between his teeth, he was far from helpless. 

Thor's hands wrapped around the back of his head and tightened, holding him still so that Thor could move how he liked. What he liked was hard, rough, and fast. Loki had to take quick sharp bursts of air in the brief moments when Thor drew back. Thor slammed into him almost viciously, fucking his face as though it was what he was made for. Loki certainly couldn't imagine a better reason for him to have one. It didn't even matter that this wouldn't bring him, it was simply too glorious to have his body dedicated to something _free_ after these dour months. 

The first shot of come hit the back of Loki's throat, sharp and hot. Thor tugged on his hair, pulling him away in time for the second blast to spatter across his cheek. More followed, covering forehead, mouth, nose, hair. By the time Thor had finished and stilled, a few last drops falling from his softening cock, Loki was coated and dripping. 

Thor leaned down. "Amen," he whispered in Loki's ear. 

Loki fell back against his bed, laughing. "Why did you let me think you were an angel?" he asked. 

Bite-reddened lips curled into a smile. "I was." 

Loki nodded. "I thought so." 

"Come now, gather your things. I am far too fond to abandon one as delicious as you." 

Loki rose from the floor, proudly nude. "I have all that I want." 

One strong hand reached for his while the other threw open the window. "Then let's go raise hell."


End file.
